Based on Lies
by StarlightNights
Summary: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.  Or at least that is what Edward and Bella hope for.
1. 1: Wanna Leave With You Tonight

**Chapter 1**

**Wanna Leave With You Tonight**

Las Vegas. What is there to say that hasn't been said already? Yes, it was everything it was said to be… and more. It was that city. A city that could give you a big jackpot and euphoric high then seconds later take it away, strip you naked and throw you out into the busy street. Lives either start or end here, no exceptions. You could fulfill your wildest fantasies; sex, drugs, implement your delusions of grandeur…you name it, you can accomplish it there. Then go home and back to your boring life, your boring job, your boring family and your boring significant other. No worries. No regrets. Just the simple satisfaction of a few days away. But it's so much more complicated than that. No one can be satisfied by a mere few days, they all get sucked in. And they leave blinded by the bright lights and all the glamour.

They say that what happens there stays there. And it better in a place named Sin City, an apt name for the place. It is full of all the seven deadly sins: gluttony, pride, wrath, envy, sloth and most importantly greed and lust. It certainly isn't a place for religious pilgrimage. Unless your religion happens to be blackjack. It's not a quaint family vacation area, not with legal prostitution just outside the city limits. This is where you come when you want to get away from an ordinary life filled with boring and restricting morals. This is where you come to try to make a quick buck but end up losing everything you own. This was where you come to escape a big wedding. Or to simply just have a little fun.

That's what my vacation was supposed to be about. Fun. Two friends, traveling to escape the real world and celebrate in style.

Rosalie had the idea of a girl's night out in Vegas. Her boyfriend…ex boyfriend, Royce, had broken up with her. And I was sick of watching her mope around. It wasn't like her. She was supposed to be witty and sarcastic with just a touch of bitchy. So after a week of she hatched a plan to get over Royce. She said there was no better way to mend a broken heart than a night of drinking and promiscuity. And no better place to do that but Las Vegas.

The trip was treacherous. Rosalie was not usually pleasant for extended periods of time, especially in a confined space. But I figured it would be well worth it when we arrived. Sadly, it wasn't. The first night she locked herself in the room wallowing in self pity with a quart of ice cream. So instead of a weekend in Vegas I decided to extended girls night out to an entire week of fun, drinking and promiscuity. And maybe even a little ice cream on the side. That seemed to do the trick for her. She stopped moping with her ice cream and started parting with lots of beer.

We had spent our days around the tables being good luck charms for high rollers (you got a lot of free stuff that way) and our nights getting free drinks from lonely guys in bars. In the early mornings when we would finally stumble back to our hotel room and sleep, we came alone, because sadly the selection of guys we came across was well below our standards for one reason or another, hard to imagine after the amount of alcohol we consumed.

We had only two nights left and were not going to settle for a trip to Vegas without the promiscuous sex that we were planning on. So we walked the strip and into bar after bar before Rosalie finally found one that 'felt like' a place where her type of guy would be. I didn't get it. It looked like just another bar to me. It was loud and crowded and smelled heavily of alcohol, sweat and smoke. The small dance floor was packed with a sea of people all moving in rhythm with the music (and a few with no rhythm at all). Happy couples celebrated a new wedding or their winnings. Complete strangers left, hand in hand and mouth to mouth for a night of meaningless but passionate sex. Desperate and lonely individuals dressed in expensive clothing sat on their barstools crying into a beer they could barely afford as they tried to figure out how to get the lives they just gambled away back. Three geeks in the corner being chatted up by women that were so far out of their league it was funny. They were willing to give out their lives savings if those women asked, and they probably would too. It was painfully obvious that they were prostitutes after all. So all in all, it looked like your average run of the mill Vegas bar. Just like the ones we had struck out at for the past week.

But what I didn't see at first was what had caught her attention in the first place, a big group of meatheads in the VIP area. And 50% of them fit Rosalie's description of a perfect guy. And Rosalie being Rosalie walked right up to them and flat out asked if there was someone there that was willing to buy her a drink. She had five chocolate martinis in front of her before she even sat down. I settled into the back and tried to disappear. This was not my scene. I did not go for the meathead type. And I did not want to get in the middle of them like Rose was. She thrived on being the center of attention while I was much more likely to shy away from it. So I sunk into a quiet corner as the large group crowded around her and vied for her affection.

Rosalie was now on her fourth chocolate martini, that I know of, and was well on her way to being drunk. Not so much on her way now that I really pay attention, she was well past it. She had put an end to the game the guys were playing and had declared a winner, of course it was the biggest guy there was. The rest of the guys returned to drinking and scoping out the bar for another girl.

Rosalie let out a laugh that was a little too loud as she listened to the rebound guy. Supposedly this was the Ohio State football team out celebrating their season. And the guy she had chosen for the night was a linebacker out of Ohio State and entering the NFL draft. Sure to be a number one pick, according to him and all his friends. It was a good story, I must admit, to use on drunk girls. A very hot, athletic guy with the promise of fortune and fame. Like things like that ever really happen, a random hook up that lasts long enough for the promise of fortune and fame to actually pay off. And like the guy was really telling the truth about anything at all. But Rosalie was drunk and lonely and would fuck any guy that gave her attention that night, even if he didn't have a story that would make her want to fuck him right on the spot like that.

I dragged her away quickly. It's time for the girlfriend pep talk. "So how are things going with Mr. Football?"

She giggled. "Emmett," she sighed dreamily. "He's great. He wants me to… go to some big football thing with him. I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention. He's so hot. Hey, just in case he's not prepared, do you have a condom on you?"

I nodded my head. "It's going that well." I smiled at her. "I come prepared for anything." I reach into my back pocket and hand one to her. "And even if I didn't, check out the bathroom, they sell them in vending machines."

She held a look of pure awe on her face. "Like with the tampons?"

"Yeah, I know. An odd placement but it seems to work. Kind of a genius idea." I shrugged. I grabbed her arms and hold her in place, forcing her to look at me. "You and Mr. Football enjoy your night. I won't come back to the room until morning."

She pulled me in for a hug. "Thank you! I love you!" She ran away, quickly grabbing Mr. Football by the hand and escorted him out. His buddies laughed, nodded their heads and did all the other things guys do when they know one of their friends is about to get laid.

And now that Rose had been taken care of, it was time for me to find my room for the night. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not usually this girl. I'm not one that goes out looking for one night stands. Sure sometimes they just happen to happen. But you only live once and this is Vegas. It's like, required to be a whore when you come here.

I took a seat at the bar and waited. I scanned the room. Very disappointing. I might have to switch bars. I saw a lot of dorky boys hoping that some girl would walk up to them and make their wildest dreams come true. Some old desperate men that thought they could still hang with the younger crowd. And I have very little interest in Mr. Football's friends. I scowled in disgust just as I felt a hand at my waist. It better not be one of the old pervs. I am not nearly drunk enough for that. I turned and was pleasantly surprised. Young. Soft green eyes that perfectly complimented his wayward bronze hair. Muscular arms. And a boyishly playful crooked smile. He will do.

"You looked like you could use a drink," he offered me a shot glass filled with a clear liquid.

"Thanks." I smiled. The fluid burned my throat in a very good way. "Bella," I offer with a smile.

"Edward." He slinks into the seat beside me. "You're alone?" The question wasn't so subtle but I had pretty much already made up my mind.

"I was here with a friend," I talked as he ordered us another round of drinks. "But she took off with…Some meathead." I rolled my eyes.

"Not your type," he observed with a laugh.

"No." I shook my head and met his laughter. "Me and Rose are very different. While she was having cheer practice in high school I was serving detention for skipping class…among other things."

"So you're the bad twin?"

I again laughed. "If we were twins, yeah. But I'm just a friend with a bad influence."

"You don't seem all that bad to me." He flashed me a crooked grin as he glided another glass in my direction.

I licked my lips and lift the drink. "You haven't known me that long yet," I said, doing the shot with him.

"Then I guess I'll have to get to know you better," he teased back.

This playful flirting is much more effective on me than Mr. Football's false story. "Buy me another drink first."

He obliged and we began to question each other. A sort of interview, but much more fun. "First time you were ever drunk?"

I smiled. I was an early bloomer. My parents divorce took it's toll on me. "14."

"17."

It was my turn. "First time you had sex?"

"17."

"Big year for you." I nodded and he seems to blush. How cute. He's soliciting for a one night stand but he blushes over his first time. "16."

"You're biggest embarrassment?"

I shook my head. "I don't embarrass easily."

"If you were to turn me down." He nodded.

Time to turn it up. "Keep the drinks coming and I don't think that will be a problem." I raised an eyebrow and watched his reaction out of the corner of my eye. He hardly reacted. He already knew he was in. And I really don't think I need anymore drinks. My head was already buzzing. But he ordered another round and I accepted. Fuck it! What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Or at least I pray to God, that's the way it is.

I pulled the thick cotton sheets over my head, blocking out the blinding light of the afternoon sun. I felt the heat radiating from the body next to me and sighed as an arm draped itself over my waist. "Rose," I whined, fighting back a yawn as I pushed the arm from her. "Go sleep in your own bed. You can tell me all about him when I wake up."

But the only response that I got was that of a body cuddling closer to me and a low moan. A moan that defiantly didn't belong to Rose. I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts. And I failed miserably. I had a massive headache and an overwhelming sensation that the room was spinning. And my stomach was protesting all the alcohol it begged for last night. And let's not forget to mention my lack of recognition of the room I woke up in.

What did I remember? I know there was a bar. And there was a boy. And I assume there was sex. Hence the nakedness on my part. But that's where my memory failed me. I think there must have been more alcohol. And presumably more sex. Why did I always forget the best parts?

I took a deep breath and rolled over, instantly regretting it as my stomach gurgled loudly in protest. I wrapped myself in the sheet and ran to what I assumed was the bathroom. Unfortunately I was wrong and I vomited in someone's luggage stored in a very large closet for a hotel. Impressive. I sat down and closed my eyes. It was the first time I had ever been black out drunk before. And I really didn't like it. I crawled to my purse and popped a handful of aspirin followed by a stick of gum.

That's when it finally got my attention. A very new, very shiny piece of jewelry placed on my left ring finger. Very funny, I chuckled to myself. Vegas humor. And there was even a matching marriage license on the night stand. How cute. But I needed to get back to my room and check in on Rose. Make sure that Mr. Football wasn't actually Mr. Psycho Killer. And I hope she's not feeling as bad as I am right now. Maybe she actually remembered what happened with her conquest last night. But I had a slight problem, all my clothes seemed to be missing. Please tell me I didn't strip before getting into the room. I don't really want to find my way back to my room wrapped in a sheet.

I looked to the bed to find my mystery man the bed lying on his stomach, his bare ass (his very nice bare ass) up in the air. That's just perfect. Exactly what I wanted to do first thing in the morning when I had a hangover. I ignored mystery man for a moment and look for my clothes. But as usual, I had no luck. So I focused my attention back on the mystery man. "Hey," I started off quietly as I gingerly kicked the edge of the mattress, still holding the sheet against my body. He didn't move. And no matter how many times or how loud I got, it didn't seem to make a difference. He just laid there. All naked and snoring. So I tossed a pillow at him and that seemed to do the trick.

"What the fuck?" he cursed as he quickly sat up.

"Have you seen my clothes?" I asked, wracking my brain to try to remember his name. Eli. Elton. Eddie. Edward!

"Why so anxious to get back into them? You were in such a rush to get out of them last night," he teased.

"Ha ha," I faked the laugh and rolls her eyes. "You are so clever. Steal my clothes. Slip a fake ring on my finger. Put a fake marriage license on the night stand. Where's the camera so I can laugh at how dumb I was to fall for it all." He just stared at me as I ranted. "Come on. Things to see. People to do. Or something like that. I don't know I'm very hung over and possibly still a little drunk."

He paused for another moment. "What the fuck are you talking about?" He said slowly, annunciating every syllable.

"Fake ring," I speak slowly, maybe he's still drunk too. "Fake marriage license." I point to the night stand beside him.

"Fuck!" he cursed. Starting to get it. "There's an unopened box of condoms here and…"

"No worries." I shook my head. "I'm clean and on the pill." He sat on the bed silently as I continued my search for the rest of my clothes. "But back to the real issue… You're clean too right?"

"Yeah." He nodded slowly his face still froze in a dumbfounded look.

"So let's do this…The camera or whatever. This is like Punk'd or something, right?"

"They do celebrities." He shook his head in confusion.

"So it's the poor mans version, I don't care. I just want to wrap this shit up and go."

"Why do you think we're on camera?" He questioned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

I roll my eyes and flash my new accessory. "Shit!" he started a barrage of obscenities as he ran about the room. Still naked, I'd like to add. I really wish I could remember last night he is remarkably good looking. "Do you know what this means?"

"Yeah." I nodded, growing tired of this game. "Like I said. Real funny. You got me. Now can I please have my clothes back?"

"Why are you acting like you've done this before?" He furrowed his brow.

"Maybe because I have. Once or twice on occasion. One night stands aren't that uncommon." I paused, suddenly getting it. "Oh my God! You've not a virgin are you?" I shook my head. "No, you can't be. You were so confident at the bar and if I stayed the night then the sex must have been... at least decent. And that takes some practice so..."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he interrupts me. "The sex is the least of my concerns right now. A little more worried about the whole being married thing."

I sighed heavily. "Come on," I laughed. "Sure it's Vegas but they still wouldn't let a bunch of drunks tie the knot." He tossed a receipt for a very expensive ring and a photo album filled with pictures of me and him in the first moments of matrimonial bliss. And we even got super classy and had the Elvis impersonator do it. "Well…Fuck me," I sighed, finally accepting my fate. I'm fucking married. This sucks. Charlie is going to kill me if I don't do it first.

"Yes, I believe that came next." Edward nodded.


	2. 2: I Can't Help but Want You More

**Chapter 2**

**I Can't Help but Want You More**

I was suddenly not feeling as hung over as before it was mostly replaced by anger. My headache was worse than before but I think it's from all the yelling. My stomach was feeling better since I threw up in his luggage. Serves him right. I know where I'm heading if my stomach starts to rumble again.

"I can't believe this!" I seethed, directing all my anger at Edward as I rushed around the room still looking for my clothes. "I said you could get me drunk and take advantage of me. I said nothing about getting me drunk enough to convince me to marry you!" I yelled at him as he began to dress. Must be nice to know where your clothes are.

This is bad. This is really bad. I've fucked up my entire life in one night. And I don't even remember it. My dad's going to kill me. I somehow managed to walk out of the bathroom, pushing Edward, my husband…oh god, that sounds so wrong! I wasn't planning on getting married ever, especially before the age of 30 and defiantly not to a total stranger. I gave up my search for clothes and collapsed onto the bed, massaging my temples gently. I really needed that aspirin to kick in now. And he needed to stop yelling. Wait, that was still me yelling. I must still be drunk. Or maybe it was all a bad dream. It has to be the worst nightmare ever.

I reached over to Edward and pinched him in the arm. "What was that for?" he shouted at me, massaging the spot where I got him.

"I really wanted this to be a bad dream so I was testing my theory. It failed."

"It doesn't work if you pinch someone else. How do you know if it really hurts or not?" he responds, looking at me like I'm an idiot. And maybe I am, that thought never crossed my mind.

I sit up in the bed. "You need to pinch me," I said, offering my arm to him.

"No," he refused.

"Pinch me so I can wake up from the awful nightmare," I practically begged him.

"No," he refused again.

"Please," I said offering him my best puppy dog eyes.

"Just do it!" I snapped and smacked him on the arm and continued to smack him on the arm until he finally pinched me. And it really fucking hurt! So much for my theory. "Owww, what did you do that for?"

"Because you asked me to," he shouted his response.

"Yeah, but not that hard. That's going to leave a bruise," I pouted. So much for the honeymoon phase, he just skipped right on ahead to spousal abuse. I threw myself back on the bed again. "I've done a lot of dumb things in my life, but this…this will live on as the dumbest moment of my entire life."

"You should have thought of that last night. You know, before you proposed," he whined.

"This was so not my idea! I break out in hives just thinking about sustaining a relationship for over a month! Me? Propose? You're out of your fucking mind!"

"Well, since your memory sucks." He rolled his eyes. "I'll fill you in. We met. We drank. Came back to my place. We got naked. And might I say that you have amazing tits. I assume they're real."

I nodded and smiled. I can still accept a compliment. "Thank you. I think they're my best feature."

"I think you may be right. But back to the story. We got naked and fucked. It was great. You were fantastic. I like a very vocal woman. Not to mention an aggressive one too. And afterwards I can't make a direct quote but I believe your words were something like this… Fuck! It's fucking Vegas!" He shouted imitating a drunk valley girl. "We can't be lame and just fucking go to sleep after that. That's so fucking lame. I can do that at my local dive bar. Let's get fucked up and do something stupid. Whoooooooooo!"

"I may have said lets get fucked up, but the rest just doesn't sound like me." Who am I kidding? Yes, it does. "And that still has nothing to do with how we ended up getting married!" I deafened myself.

"That came after the second trip to the bar." He nodded as he took a seat on the bed once more. "More drinks. You made out with a girl, or two, I can't remember the specifics. Puked on her boyfriend. Got me into a fight. I don't have a black eye do I?" he asked, pressing his fingers around his left eye. I shook my head as he continued. "We drank some more. Got us kicked out of the bar. We did some gambling and won quite a lot, I assume that's how you got that big rock on your finger. We were coming back to my place to celebrate but you saw the wedding chapel and…" He smiled. "Here's another great quote from you, 'What the fuck! Ya wanna'." He exaggerated the slur.

"Well, if all that's true. You're even dumber than me for, first of all, sticking with me all night long and secondly, for FUCKING SAYING YES!"

"Really? Think about this from a guy's perspective. Say no, don't get laid. Say yes, lots of sex."

"What kind of fucked up logic is that?"

"Drunk man logic," he explains.

"Well, it sucks!" I shout, trying desperately to find some kind of reason for all of this. "I would have probably slept with you anyway. I mean we already did it once-"

He shrugged. "Twice actually. And then again after the whole wedding debacle."

I ignored him and pushed on with my argument. "And even if I did turn the sex down, you could have said no and found another drunk girl to sleep with."

"But I already had you. And I enjoyed the sex the first time. And I made an investment in those drinks."

I rolled my eyes. "Buying another girl drinks would have been a hell of a lot cheaper than my new ring!"

"Yeah. That blows. I win big at the poker tables and I waste it on a bitch like you."

I cross my arms and don't even bother to respond to that. We are way beyond calling each other names. "And let me be honest. That is not what I'm like all the time."

"Could have fooled me. You had some pretty advanced moves last night." He gave me his crooked smile that I loved so much. He was really trying to get to me. And it was working. My blood was boiling.

I tried my best to ignore him and continued with my rant. I began to pace the room. "That was just me being young and impulsive and stupid. Damn the sexual revolution. Damn Freud. Damn my healthy sexual appetite."

"Healthy?" He raised his eyebrow and stood.

"A little aggressive, But who said women can't enjoy sex? I'm not ashamed. I'll admit it. I like sex. That doesn't make me a whore."

"Great, I got a woman's lib freak." He rolled his eyes. "And I didn't say you were a whore."

I shrug. "You kind of did."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Then I apologize. But can you blame me for making the assumption. We knew each other a total of two minutes before you agreed to have sex with me."

God he was infuriating. "Fuck me!" I threw my head back and cursed.

"We already established that I did. Several times." He placed his hands in his pockets with a shrug.

"Still not funny." I shook my head. "Damn alcohol. And damn your fucking hotness!"

He laughed. "And my amazing sexual prowess in bed," he added.

"Fuck you!" I shouted again. It's really not making me feel better. It usually does. Get really angry. Yell and curse a lot. That always works! But now that it doesn't, it blows. And I don't like it. I am a creature that is sustained off of instant gratification. Plan A must work because I don't think he's ready for plan B yet. "And don't flatter yourself. If you were that good, or even above average at all, my memory wouldn't have sucked as much. So just yeah… Fuck you and your mediocre prowess in bed!" Great point. But it still isn't making me feel better.

"Well fuck you too!" he countered. "For being young and hot and available and for inviting me to get you drunk and take advantage of you. Who says that? Of course I'm going to take you up on it! I'm a guy."

"Fuck you for saying yes!" And so began the great 'fuck you' battle of Vegas. But at least it was helping me to feel a little better. "Chivalry really is dead. What guy takes advantage of a girl like that? Sexual predators that's who. Are you a registered sex offender? Because you should be."

He rolled his eyes at my dramatics but I could see the anger behind his green eyes. I was making him just as mad as he was making me. "Fuck you for asking me to marry you!"

"Fuck you for getting me drunk!"

"Fuck you for asking me to!"

"Fuck you for approaching me in the bar!"

"Fuck you for being there!"

I inhaled sharply then continued. "Now that is just ridiculous." I sat on the bed and throw myself back. Plan A sucks. I'm ready for plan B. "Fuck me!"

"Stop fucking whining! It sucks for me too." He leaned against the wall.

"That wasn't a whine." I furrowed my brow and pursed my lips. He's so far from being ready for plan B. But what the hell, he was up for last night and this is way more in the realm of normal. "That was a request," I stated simply with a slight shrug of the shoulders. Be nonchalant and maybe it won't scare him as much.

Edward jumped forward. "Excuse me?"

I sat up and took a deep breath, trying to put on my cutest face. But I'm sure it was a lost cause. I night of heavy drinking and a lot of sex never reads well on a girls face. Not to mention that little issue of all the beer and vomiting in the luggage. "When I argue with a member of the opposite sex," I began to explain with a playful smile on my face. "One of two things happen. Option A. Violence erupts and someone gets a fun ride to the hospital in an ambulance. And I'll give you a hint…It'll be you. Only happened to me once. Total fluke. I slipped before I was able to inflict any damage on the guy but I digress. Or option B. You shut the fuck up and fuck me."

"There isn't an option C?" He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Are you really going to turn down sex?" We paused for a moment.

"That was really weird," he whispered. "I've never done that before. Ask me again."

"Are you ready to shut the fuck up and fuck me?" I tried again but this time with a little hint of anger. I am not known for my patience and this usually happens much faster.

"Yes!" He shouted flashing me his famous crooked grin. "Yes, I would love to have sex with you!"

"Thank God!" I celebrated. "Option B is so worth it for both of us. Have you ever had angry hate fighting sex?"

"No." He shook his head.

"You'll love it!" I shouted as I dropped my sheet. So glad I didn't get redressed. "Now get naked. This is going to go fast."

I watched as he stripped off his T-shirt, I shook my head disapprovingly. Way too slow for me. If we didn't speed this up then we were going to miss the option B window and just go right back to option A. So that was my cue to intervene. If undressing a man were an Olympic sport, I think I would be guaranteed a gold. A simple flick of the wrist and the belt is undone, let gravity do the rest, push on his chest just enough to make him collapse onto the bed and I straddled him and I focused my lips onto his. It took a second for him to react. Rookie.

I reached my hand between his legs and I felt his muscles tighten unexpectedly. But he was a fast learner. He reacted quickly, finally understanding what I said about it going fast. Option B is amazing but only has a small window of opportunity that you don't want to miss. And when I'm promised sex and I don't get it I get really cranky. My fingers massaged him for a moment before he flipped me onto my back. I do believe he finally got it. His hands cupped at my breasts, fingers twisting at the nipples just enough to entice a moan from deep in my throat. His tongue traced expertly over my flesh for a instant before we both decided that for the moment foreplay was overrated and we got down to business. And I quickly learned that I was lying before, he was far better in bed than just average. I think I'm going to promote him to the top of the ranking with the title 'The God of option B', a very rare prestige that has not been given out before.

And as most angry sex romps went, we were both in a never ending battle for dominance. We were nothing more than a fast moving jumble of limbs and sounds. And just when it was about to get really good, the door swings open. I was so wrapped up in the moment that I didn't notice. Unfortunately Edward did and he sat up quickly and threw me off of him and I fell very ungracefully to the floor with a very loud thud. Edward reacted so quickly that he may have been able to fool the interrupter into believing he was alone, but the dumb ass pushed me off the bed facing the door. I don't make much of an effort to cover myself. I'm more interested in revenge. I stood, faced the bed and slapped Edward before taking the sheet from the bed and wrapping myself in it. "Fucking asshole!" I cursed at him. "Who the fuck does that?"

"Sorry," the blond man said between shocked chuckles. "I'll just let you two finish," he said as he backed out the door, letting it slam behind him.

"Don't you lock your door?" I shouted sitting back on the bed.

"He has a key." He nodded.

We both take a moment to regroup before I turn to him and shrug. "So are you ready to go again?" I asked, still breathless as I dropped the sheet. His response was a blank stare. "Well, sure the anger has seemed to pass between us, at least for the moment, so it's not going to be the fun angry sex. But I'm still up for just some regular morning after sex." He still didn't respond. "It was going so well," I whined. The last comment seemed a little more desperate than I would have liked it too. "And for the record, I get really bitchy in situations like these. I get all psyched for the sex and then…disappointment. Well, not like you were bad, disappointing. Like, you were really good and I wanted to finish and didn't so... disappointing." I'm rambling! "And just in case we're ever in that situation again, I'm all up for ignoring the distraction and working through it. It may be creepy if he watches but I think the end will be well worth it."

He took a sharp breath in and fell back onto the bed. "What the fuck did I get myself into."

"You?" I shouted. I'm getting angry again. "What about me?"

"Oh of course, how could I forget. The world revolves around you. You're the only one this sucks for."

"Well, yeah! Like it or not we're both fucked! We made a huge mistake and I'm willing to admit that. But Jesus, at least I'm being a little more flexible about it."

He glared at me intently. "And by flexible you mean, you're willing to have sex with me."

"No." I shook my head and get to my feet ready to resume the search for my clothes. "I don't want to have sex with a pussy like you. I want a fucking divorce!"

"Well, fucking good! At least we can agree on that!" He screamed at me and throws a T-shirt and sweat pants in my direction. "Just take it and fucking get out!"

"Gladly." I dressed in his oversized clothes quickly and considered throwing the ring at him to make my final point but it looked really nice, all shiny and sparkly and expensive so I decided to keep it. But I did decide to hurl more insults at him. "So glad your boyfriend interrupted us. Having sex with you any more would have been the second dumbest thing I've ever done! You know at the bar, when we first met and you asked me about my most embarrassing moment? Well, I changed my mind. This is just about the only moment of my life that I would say I am legitimately embarrassed. Why the fuck did I ever get involved with you?"

"Real fucking mature," he shouts his rebuttal. When he gets angry you can see a vein in his neck throb and he throws his arms around a lot. It actually makes him pretty funny looking. But still in a disturbingly hot way. "Just shut your fucking mouth and get out of my room. I don't want to see your face or your tits again!"

"I thought you liked my tits," I teased, stepping closer to him taunting him more.

"I don't care about you or your tits anymore." He closed the distance between us. "I will call my lawyer figure out this whole divorce thing and we'll never have to fucking speak to each other again."

I took the final step, are bodies were close enough to feel each other's heat. "That moment can't come soon enough." I stood on my tiptoes to get my face right in his. "I fucking can't stand you," I spoke slowly allowing each word to roll off my tongue with purpose.

"I can't stand you more!"

I wasn't going to give up. I'm a girl that likes to get the last word in. "I fucking hate you."

He pressed his forehead against mine. "I fucking hate you too." With his last word, I could feel his lips gently brush mine. We stood a moment letting our anger stew as we stared into each others eyes. And suddenly we both realized that option B was back on the table. His hands gripped at my waist and pulled me in even closer, his lips came to mine with a bruising force. He untied the drawstring of the sweats I had on and let them fall to the floor as he backed me up against the wall. He didn't even bother to mess with my shirt. He just lifted me up and let our hips collide with a devastatingly good force.

If I thought our first attempt at sober sex was good, this blew that out of the water. With every crash of our hips a wave of ecstasy coursing through my blood. Again we were interrupted, but this time he didn't take notice. He kept me pinned against the wall, dominating my body in the best way I have ever known. I clung to him, molding my body against his, needing to feel his body all over mine. And when we were both finally completely spent my body slowly slid down the wall into his arms. I stared into his green eyes, desperately seeking air, not able to find any words. So I settled on a string on unintelligible sounds. And Edward nodded his head in agreement.

After a few more minutes pass I finally broke the silence. "So were do we go from here?"

"Well, I guess there is only one thing left to do." He rubbed the sweat from his face and stared up at the white ceiling as if it's going to undo this mess for us. "Get a divorce. Irreconcilable differences. If we talk any longer, I'm sure we could find some. That is if we could stop fucking each other long enough to do any talking."

I nodded in agreement. He was right on both counts. I rested my head on his shoulders as I tried to collect my thoughts. I heard a ringing from below the bed and finally figured out where my pants were. I did a quick maneuver and managed to fish my phone out from the pocket of my pants. Please do not be my father. I closed my eyes and prayed for the best as I flipped my cell open. "There better be a damn good explanation on why you aren't in the fucking room. Like, you need to be near death. Like, seriously, I hope I am talking to the man who has kidnapped my best friend and is about to chop her into tiny little pieces and bake it into some kind of nasty pie. And if you are that guy, please don't. She might be annoying and I might hate her very much right now but overall, I love her very much and need her. So what is it?" Rose finally concluded her rant.

"I love you too," I squeaked, chewing on the tip of my nail.

"Fuck, Bella! You had me worried!"

"Well, I wanted to give you and Mr. Football plenty of time…"

There is an exasperated grunt from Rose. "Have you looked at a clock recently?"

No. And it is a horrible sign when Rose thinks it's late. "No," I admitted sheepishly.

"Get your ass back here," she demanded and hung up on me.

I turned towards Edward and grin with a small bat of my eyelashes. "I have to go."

"Yeah." He nodded slowly. "I've got a lot of stuff to do. Divorce papers to file. Shower. The usual."

I nodded with him. "Yeah, me too." There was an awkward moment of silence. What could you tell someone that you knew so little about but have been so overwhelmingly intimate with. "Well, it was nice…spending time with you," I spoke slowly, trying to figure out what should come next. Handshake? Too informal. Hug? Too awkward. I know, we had sex. A lot of it if I understand correctly. But that just seems a little too weird for me. So I settle with a small kiss. And that was even more awkward than a hug would have be. I grimaced and saw that he did the same. I mean, this was horrific. I've made out with Rose and there has been more passion than that. Not that I was going for passion, but it was like…there are no words to describe it. It was just that awful. "We can have great sex but the kissing needs a bit of work."

He nodded. "I guess it's true when they say a marriage takes away all the passion in a romance."

"So…" I shrugged and rested my hands in my pockets.

"I've got a free afternoon. I'll call my lawyer and figure stuff out," he explained. "Then that would be that."

"Sounds good." I nodded. "Then I guess I'll talk to you later." There is a soft knock on the door.

"You guys better be done this time because I'm coming in," a voice shouted as the man from before appeared in the room.

"Bella, Jasper. Jasper, Bella." Edward quickly introduced us. Jasper nodded at me and I excused myself and quickly ran up to my floor. I paused before walking down the long corridor. I looked at my ring and sighed. How did I get myself into this mess? I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that I liked to drink myself into oblivion and do dumb things for fun. And I'm sure it couldn't have been my fault at all, because it's not like I make stupid decisions everyday of my life. But that was a first. I'd never been married before. It's so messed up.

I reached my room and Rose didn't even wait for me to fish out the key. "What the fuck took you so long?" she cursed and pulled me into the room. "Oh my god, Bella. You've got a serious case of the sex hair going on. Like worst I've ever seen." She reached her hands out and tried to flatten my wild hair. "You didn't even try to hide it with a shower or even a hair brush." She grimaced. "But it just tells me that this is going to be a good story."

I paused, furrowing my brow slightly. I'm not usually speechless but in that moment, I was. How would I even begin to describe what transpired the night before? "It's a long story." Seems like a good way to wrap it up. "I'd really like to hear more about your night first though."

"Met a guy. Had sex. It was a little over average. I hope his skills on the field are better than the ones in bed or he's fucked. We had sex again. It was much better. Turns out he sucks at drunk fucking. Then he left. How about you?"

"Similar pattern." I nodded. She raised an eyebrow, her way of letting me know that, that wasn't going to cut it. I exhaled heavily. "I don't think you'd believe me even if I told you." And my mind is on other things like being married and if I'd been remembering to take my pill every morning.

She crossed her arms over her chest and tried a different approach. "Well, I'm sure you could explain it to your dad. He's only called a million times."

The color drained from my face as I lowered myself onto the bed. I'm fucked. "What did you tell him?" See, my father being the chief of police in a small town did not think that his young daughter was ready for a trip to Vegas. And I guess he was right. So I lied. It only took me ten minutes of Internet research to find an acceptable excuse, a habitat for humanity build a few miles out of Vegas. I had to do some for lying to get him to believe that Rosalie was going to be building a house but in the end, he bought it.

"That the build was going great." She shrugged. "We were way ahead of schedule and that you made some new friends and were out do-gooding with them or whatever he excepts you to be doing."

I sighed a heavy breath of relief. "Have I ever told you just how much I love you?"

Rose sat beside me and wrapped her arms around me. "And for that, you owe me every single detail. After you call your dad."

I reluctantly smiled. I have no choice. I dialed my father. It was a brief call. I assured him that I wasn't dead. The retreat was going wonderfully. Yes, I made some awesome new friends and we had coffee and that as clumsy as I was I was pretty decent with a hammer.

"Now spill," Rosalie insisted. I buried my head in my hands, wiggling my left ring finger for emphasis. "Oh my god!" she shouted, grabbing my hand and inspecting my jewelry. "You're night was so much more fun than mine!"

"Don't be jealous." I shook my head and sneered.

I sighed a heavy breath of relief. "Have I ever told you just how much I love you?"

Rose sat beside me and wrapped her arms around me. "And for that, you owe me every single detail. After you call your dad."

I reluctantly smiled. I have no choice. I dialed my father. It was a brief call. I assured him that I wasn't dead. The retreat was going wonderfully. Yes, I made some awesome new friends and we had coffee and that as clumsy as I was I was pretty decent with a hammer.

"Now spill," Rosalie insisted. I burried my head in my hands, wiggling my left ring finger for emphasis. "Oh my god!" she shouted, grabbing my hand and inspecting my jewelry. "You're night was so much more fun than mine!"

"Don't be jealous." I shook my head and sneered.


	3. 3: I'll Never be the Same

**Chapter 3**

**I'll Never be the Same**

It took way too long to explain that story. And in the end Rosalie didn't even believe me. I guess I'll have to bring the pictures as proof for her too. But I couldn't really blame her. Hell, I didn't even believe it at first either. She just thinks I'm making it up to get attention. But that's her thing, not mine.

After my explanation she some more trying to guilt trip me with the whole best friends rule. But I've already told her the truth. But she just got even more mad and informed me that she had made plans with Mr. Football and left me!

I tried to relax and watch TV, but the remote was very confusing and all I could find were Spanish channels. After another few hours of failed attempts to occupy my time I finally decided I needed to figure out a way to get into contact with my husband. That sounds so wrong! I wandered the halls but couldn't remember what room was his. I couldn't even figure out what floor. But since I have such an amazing way with words I was able to get the woman at the front desk to give me his room number and I found myself waiting outside his door.

It was so sad. I was spending the last day of my vacation sitting in a hallway reading a book. But it didn't even last an hour. Edward came bouncing down the hall, leaving some other guys behind. He held out his hands to help me up and his lips were immediately on mine. And that time it was not as weird as before. It actually wasn't weird at all. There was sparks and electricity flying between us and I really liked it. I mean really liked it.

I smiled as he pulled away and opened the door. "I'm guessing we're divorced," I said as soon as soon as we're inside the room.

"Better," he said with a smile, fishing some papers out of his back pocket. What the hell was he talking about? The color drained from my face and I walked closer to him. What could be better than a divorce at a time like that? He motioned over to the desk and forced me to sit. "We're getting an annulment. Our marriage will not have even existed." That is better. "All we have to do is meet with our lawyers sign a paper and poof! It never happened." He pushed the papers closer to me. Explaining that even if the marriage was consummated, which is was, a lot, our judgments were impaired so legally we could get an annulment, or something like that. "Congratulations, we are very close to once again being two strangers."

"That's it?" I asked in shock, turning around to look at him.

"That's it." He laughed, wrapping his arms around me and grabbing the papers from me. Wow. That was easy. Probably easier than actually getting married. Well, it was good while it lasted.

I stood up and stand in front of him. "Well, it was a pleasure being married to you." I laughed and extend my hand.

"You're leaving?" he shouted. "This is a time for celebration. We can go down to the bar, have a few drinks…" He trailed off noticing the familiarity of his words, or maybe it was the look I was giving him. "Or we could just not drink anymore." He shrugged.

"I think that would be a good idea." I laughed, again holding out my hand.

He rolled his eyes. "This calls for more than a handshake," he said wrapping his arms around me tightly, his hands slipping down my back, resting at the small of my back. "You know, if in like ten years or something, neither one of us is married, we could always try this again," he said a grin spreading across his face as he looks into my eyes.

I pretend to think about it for a few seconds. It sounds funny and horrible. I mean we failed once why try again? But it's not like it was that bad the first time. Who knows? If we had met under some different circumstances things may have ended up differently. The sex was great. And it's not like that's going to happen anyway. It's just something that people say. So instead I smile at him and agree. "Make it five."

He asked for my phone number and that took me by surprise. I thought he'd want to forget about me and this crazy weekend. I kind of do. So I did what I always do in a situation like that, well, not exactly like that. I did what I do after every one night stand that didn't want to be left at a one night stand. I left a fake number. Not that he'd ever call me if I left my real number but…just in case.

"You'll always be my favorite wife," he joked, pulling me in for another hug. I think I might actually miss him. I slowly pulled away and looked at him, trying to figure out the best way to say goodbye to someone you hardly knew but have been through so much with. But I thought has the right idea as his hands find their way to my cheeks and his lips connected with mine. There was definitely no weirdness that time as his tongue plunged deep into my mouth. There was even more spark and electricity. My body was immediately on fire and ready to go. I really wish we would have met at a different place and different time. It would have been so much more fun.

My hands ran up his back, bringing our bodies closer and I couldn't help but moan from even the softest of his touches. His hand slipped into my shirt, tickling my stomach making me giggle as he lifted my shirt over my head threw it across the room. That time I made a mental note of where it landed as his shirt dropped to the floor. His lips wandered down my neck as I fumbled with his belt buckle. His pants fall to his ankles and he quickly stepped out of them, leading me closer to the bed.

I pressed my hands to his firm abdomen and pushed him onto the bed, slowly unzipping my pants and sliding them down my legs. I continued to tease him by unclasping my bra and letting it fall to the floor. He started to sit up but I pushed him onto his back. He propped himself up on his elbows and watched me as I moved at a torturously slow pace and I slid my panties down my legs, standing at the foot of the bed. I slipped off his socks and climbed into the bed, crawling toward him. My fingers walked up his abdomen, stopping at the elastic of his boxers and sliding under. His head rolled back and he bit his lip as I freed him of his smiley faced boxers and flung them across the room. I straddled him and my lips meeting his in a hungry kiss, tongues and bodies battling for dominance.

Of course he won and took power over me and rolled me onto my back. His skillful hands massaged my breasts, lips wandered all over my body before finally meeting mine again. Slowly he entered me and we picked up a rhythm quickly. The steady creaking of the mattress and our panting and moaning blended together forming an X-rated soundtrack for the adjacent room. His thrusts became erratic and I dug my nails into the tender flesh of his back. Fuck the annulment! I'd stay married to him if I get sex like this on a regular basis. I screamed his name as my body began to shake and my muscles tightened, bringing him over the edge with me. He collapsed beside me and pushed damp hairs out of my face as he looked at me for a minute. He then kissed me before rolling onto his back and closing his eyes. I sighed heavily and tried to control my breathing before wrapping the sheets around my sweaty body and drifting off to sleep with him.

I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was Edward. First thing I did was check the nightstand for another marriage certificate. Thank God, it looks like we skipped that part this time. I glanced at the clock, Rose and I were supposed to be leaving for the airport just about this minute.

I crawled out of bed, carefully to not wake my hus…almost ex-husband... almost never was husband (I don't know what you call someone after you get your marriage annulled) and gathered my scattered clothes, quickly dressing and pulling my hair back into a sloppy ponytail. I really need a shower but I couldn't miss my flight. But I was not going to skip brushing my teeth, that was just all kinds of gross (I am well aware of how bad my morning breath was and no one should have to suffer through smelling that). That is why I always keep an emergency bottle of mouthwash in my purse, it would be good enough.

I leaned over the bed and placed a soft kiss on Edward's forehead. He didn't move a muscle. A quick and silent get away would be possible. Because if he did wake up I'm sure there would be some nice morning after sex and there was no time for that. But it really would have been fantastic. "I think I might actually miss you, Edward," I admitted to his sleeping form. "It's been kind of nice. And we're really sexually compatible. I think I'll miss that the most. Oh, what could have been," I sighed and that time gave him a small kiss on the lips. And even when he was sleeping and completely unaware of my presence there was still sparks. If only there was time for me to take advantage of him for once. I silently slipped out of the room and ran to mine.

Rose was waiting impatiently, she already had my suitcase for me. She skipped the interrogation and just ushered me out of the room. But as soon as we were in the elevator she started firing questions. "So… what have you been up to?" she said, one eyebrow raised suggestively.

I shrugged and shifted my suitcase from hand to hand. "You know, the usual," I said nonchalantly and sighed heavily.

"You've got the just sexed hair again," she shrugged, I could see her fighting to keep herself from fixing it.

"Yeah, probably. It's pretty standard after a good fucking." She didn't respond to me and kept the rest of the elevator ride quiet.

We made our way over to the front desk and went through all the hassle of checking out, only problem was, I couldn't get Edward off my mind. I actually kind of felt guilty for slipping out without saying goodbye. I thought about leaving him a note at the desk but Rose grabbed my hand and started to lead me outside. But a patch of blond hair caught my attention. I took it as a sign. "Hey…guy who walked in on me and Edward," I shouted as I pulled Rose to a stop. He kept walking without looking over my way. Fuck. What was his name? It was something unusual."Uhhhh…Jasper?" I tried. Bingo! He turned and looked at me with a confused look on his face that was quickly replaced by a smirk as soon as he recognized me. I guess the addition of the clothes threw him off a little.

"What? Edward not enough fun for ya?" he drawled as he raised an eyebrow and I kept myself from hitting him. But I guess he had every right to presume I'm kind of a whore. I did kind of act like one.

"Actually," I said through clenched teeth. "I wanted to leave him a message. Think you can handle delivering it to him?"

"Depends on what I get out of it." He winked. I just rolled my eyes and sighed, pulling my notebook out of my purse. Rose gave me a confused look and I nodded, letting her know I'd tell her all about it later. I scrawled a short message and signed my name, Rosalie reading over my shoulder. I tore it out only to add my phone number at the bottom.

"Wow," Rosalie gasped in awe as I handed the folded paper to Jasper. "You actually gave him your real number."

"Let's get out of here. We're going to miss our flight." I rolled my eyes and grabbed her hand, leaving the kid behind without any further conversation. I think he got the idea.

When we boarded the plane, Rose kept quiet thinking I'd explain everything without being prompted. And after ten minutes of pouting in silence she finally cracked and started firing questions and I gave her truthful answers again. I forgot to get the pictures for her. But again, she rolled her eyes and told me to grow up. She sighed and hit her head on the tray in front of her. I just laughed and reached into my bag, searching for my iPod but I found a sheet of paper. The marriage license. I handed it to Rose and smirked. "I told you so." I shrugged. She stared at the document in disbelief, trying to debunk it as a fake but in the end she finally believed me.

"Holy fucking shit!" she cursed so loudly it drew everyone's attention to her.

"Calm down," I demanded. "It's no big deal. Happens all the time."

"No, it doesn't," she snapped. "There is a process. Boy meets girl. Boy woos girl. Boy proposes to girl. Then they get married. You just jumped the gun and..." she trails off quietly. "It sounds romantic."

"Romantic?" I shout. "Where do you see any romance? I got so drunk that I didn't remember any of it. And there was a lot that went on, or so I'm told. There was no wooing. It was just tequila and sex."

"But still," she whined. "You got a ring and you said he was hot and the sex was great. What more could a girl ask for?"

"Any kind of basic knowledge on the guy she married. I've got a name and some memories that's about it."

"God, it really was all sex and tequila with you. How do you ruin such a good romantic story like that. Imagine telling your grandchildren how it was just fate how you came to be together. It would be so cute." She sat in silence for a few moments before she began shouting again. "How the hell did you get married before I do?"

"Don't get all jealous on me. It's already over. Never have to see him again. All I have to do is meet with a lawyer, sign some papers and it's just like it never happened. Just a little secret that stays in Vegas. And it will stay in Vegas because I swear to God if you ever tell anyone I will murder you while you sleep. And I don't think murder will actually be the right word. I will destroy you. And if Charlie ever finds out he will kill me. And then I will come back and haunt you. I will haunt you so bad... It'll just be bad. I mean, it's so bad I can't even describe to you how bad it will be."

"Oh give it a rest, Bella," Rosalie rolls her eyes. "Your secret is safe with me. But I really wish you would have let me meet him. I mean, I am your best friend after all. I am a little insulted you didn't even think to invite me to your wedding. It's pretty hurtful actually."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm sorry. The next time I get married I promise to invite you."

"Thank you." She smiled.

"Now can we stop talking about me and my monumental mistake? Tell me how your weekend with Mr. Football went."

"Oh," she sighed. Her eyes glazed over and she stared ahead dreamily. "He's wonderful," she began gushing all about it. I settled back into my seat and listened to her ramble knowing she wouldn't be able to stop until we got home. And that would be alright with me. We were closing the books on my drama and were just starting with hers and it was going to stay that way.

But even if I had ended the discussion with Rose my mind could help but wander. She rambled on and on about Mr. Football and how she thought she was in love with him and I got bored listening after the first five times she told me this. So I instead reflected on my week away. Despite all the setbacks I guess it was the best vacation ever. It's going to be hard to top it. I mean what else can I do? Everything is going to seem rather tame in comparison. But I guess next time I would just not get the annulment. I leaned back and closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, wondering if Edward would ever actually call.

So to wrap up the story for you. Vegas is all it is said to be and then some. The bright lights shine brighter than you could imagine. The shows and buildings are larger than life. The food is amazing. And the locals are more crazy than you thought possible. It does not disappoint. You know what you're getting into when you go to Vegas. This isn't a family vacation. This is adult entertainment at it's best. And I will always hold a special place in my heart for it. Because my Vegas experience changed my life forever. Would I drink that much again? Not a chance in hell. Well, at least not in Vegas.

**Author's Note**: That is the end of this story. But that is not the end to Edward and Bella's story. So keep a look out because there is a sequel that is already underway. The sequel will be much longer for those of you that felt cheated on this one but I never intended this to be any more than a fun (and a little outrageous) short. But the sequel will be much more involved and I hope that you will like it when I post it. The first chapter should be out in a few days. Thank you so much for reading!


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